


and this song is just i love you and always will

by wildmachinery



Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Alien Culture, Alien Rituals, Fruit, Lasat kisses, Lira San, M/M, Marriage, Retirement, Soft boys being soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:43:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23915518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildmachinery/pseuds/wildmachinery
Summary: Kallus spends a lot of time at the market.
Relationships: Alexsandr Kallus/Garazeb "Zeb" Orrelios
Comments: 11
Kudos: 82
Collections: Kalluzeb appreciation week 2020.





	and this song is just i love you and always will

Kallus spends a lot of time at the market.

Zeb is busy himself. Lira San is peaceful, but his people are still warriors; he teaches the martial arts he’d trained his guards in long ago. Kallus helps sometimes, is happy to demonstrate sparring techniques, but Zeb has the feeling he’s lost his taste for violence. It’s all right; they both fought long and hard enough that they deserve a rest.

So Kallus goes to the market, he learns Lasat cooking from Gron and Lasat language from Chava, he keeps their house in the lush grasslands at the foot of the mountains. Zeb comes back in the evenings to a home filled with light and warm smells and Kallus’s smile. They share food and a bed. When Zeb has a rest day, they sit together in the open air; Kallus is learning to play the kithara with its six strings, and he plucks out old Coruscanti ballads he remembers from his childhood. Sometimes he sings along in a soft clear voice, in a language Zeb doesn’t understand; Kallus says the words are difficult to translate into Basic.

(The first time Zeb heard him singing, alone in their kitchen, his heart had twisted almost painfully in his chest, then settled with a feeling of such bone-deep contentment that it had brought tears to his eyes. He’d had to lean against the doorframe to steady himself, and the sound made Kallus turn and stop singing, a sweet pink flush rising in his cheeks. _Don’t stop_ , Zeb had said, and smiled helplessly at him. _Please. Your voice is beautiful._ His blush had deepened, but he hadn’t looked away when he picked up the song again, a Lasat lullaby that Zeb’s father had sung to him when he was a child. His pronunciation needed work, the r’s not rolling as they should, and his voice was more hesitant with Zeb looking at him. It felt like a dream, some soft fantasy that he had never allowed himself to know he wanted. Zeb went to him, folded him in his arms and rubbed his cheek almost desperately against his bearded jaw. _I love you_ , he said. _Kal. I love you._ )

One rest day, they sleep late, curled lazily around each other in the sunlight streaming in through the window. They eat together, the sweet dense little cakes that are Zeb’s favorite, crisp slices of mallus and jogan, hot milky tea. In the afternoon, Kallus suggests a walk, and they go hand-in-hand through their garden and along the flowing stream behind their house until they reach a hill. The breeze at the top is gentle, and the only sounds are the birds and the stream and the rustling of the trees. They sit in the soft grass and talk, leaning against each other and laughing. Zeb can’t remember ever being as happy as he is now. He closes his eyes and lifts his face to the sun.

Kallus is quiet for a moment. _Garazeb_ , he says. When Zeb turns to him, he has an undatus fruit in his cupped hands, held out towards Zeb like an offering. Zeb feels his eyes widen. Kallus is pale and nervous like Zeb hasn’t seen in a long time, but his hands are steady. _There is no blade between us_ , he says in careful Lasat.

Zeb reaches out, dazed, and takes the fruit from him. _There is no need_ , he responds in kind, the old words familiar on his tongue. He never thought he would have the chance to speak them. He raises the fruit to his lips, tears carefully through the thick, bitter skin with his teeth. The bared flesh is tender and creamy-pale, speckled with tiny black seeds. He breaks off a piece and holds it out to Kallus. _I will care for you in peace_ , he murmurs as Kallus eats the fruit from his fingers, then takes the body of it from him.

Kallus breaks off his own piece and holds it out to Zeb. _I will fight for you in war_. The juice runs down his wrist, sticky-sweet; Zeb licks it from his skin as Kallus feeds him.

 _In life, we will share one quilt_ , Zeb says. His voice cracks. _Kal._

Kallus swallows hard. His eyes are wet and fierce as a hunting bird. _In death, we will share one bed._ Tears slip down his cheeks.

Zeb lets out a laugh that’s half a sob and pulls Kallus into his arms, kissing him frantically. _Zeb_ , Kallus murmurs between kisses. _Zeb. I love you_.

Zeb finds himself weeping like he hasn’t in years. He thought he'd forgotten how. His heart is leaping and twisting in his chest, joyous, ecstatic. Kallus’s hands stroke soothingly up and down his back. His husband, now; his mate. _How did you know the words?_

Kallus laughs wetly. _I asked Chava_ , he says. _She sends her love, by the way._

Zeb kisses his face, rubs their cheeks together; he wants Kallus covered in his scent, wants everyone to know that Kallus is his. He’s purring, deep in his chest. Kallus laughs again, soft. _Darling_ , he says, impossibly tender.

Soon they will stand and walk back hand-in-hand along the stream. Zeb will take Kallus to their bed and keep him there until late the next morning. They will go together to the market and buy the matching bracers that will show the world that they belong to each other now, that the fruit has been shared and the words have been spoken. But now, Zeb only says, _Husband_ , in a low rumble that makes Kallus shiver and kiss Zeb’s throat.

 _Yes_ , Kallus says, and tightens his arms around him. _Yes._

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts for Saturday, May 2, 2020: end of the war - Lasat's mating ritual
> 
> What am I? I'm soft.
> 
> This is the poem that inspired this: [Pitahaya by Craig Arnold](https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/poems/56462/pitahaya)  
> This is the poem that I stole a few lines from: [Married Love by Kuan Tao-sheng](https://lareviewofbooks.org/article/kuan-tao-sheng-valentine/)  
> And this is the song I listened to on repeat while writing: [This Is The Song (Good Luck) by Punch Brothers](https://youtu.be/BhNdXr5wey0)


End file.
